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  Silence reigned in the room until finally Slade cleared his throat.

  “Forgive me, Admiral. I’ve never had the chance to speak with anyone who actually knew someone who’d fought in the war against the Venifucus. Few species are long-lived enough. You must be several hundred years old, if you don’t mind the observation.”

  “Seven hundred and fifty-two, actually. I waited a long time to find my true mate and start a family.” He actually smiled at Trisha and she realized her mouth was gaping open in shock.

  She looked around the room and everyone seemed to be taking his news in stride. They believed him and didn’t blink an eye at the idea that he was way older than any normal person had a right to be. She’d thought he was fifty-two, not seven hundred and fifty-two. This was going to take some getting used to.

  “Then the magic runs strong in your species,” Grif observed, nodding toward Trisha. “That’s both good and bad. Given a chance to grow old gracefully, cougars can last several centuries. Sadly, our ancestors often lived very chaotic lives and few got the chance to do so. I like to think that by banding together as we have in the Redstone Clan and under the guidance of the Lords, our current generations will have a much better shot at living to ripe old ages without the internal conflicts and fights for dominance.”

  Whoa. Now not only was her dad hundreds of years older than she thought, but they were saying that Steve and his brothers would live just as long? And what about her? The mind-boggling thought that if her dad had been around so long, she probably would be too… It was almost too much to process.

  Steve took her hand and squeezed it, grounding her. She looked at him and realized he could be way older than she thought he was. That was something she’d have to ask him about privately. She didn’t want to draw any more attention to their personal situation at the moment. Not while she had her father so neatly distracted from his initial anger.

  “I’m glad you strive for peace. I have known shapeshifters in my time who were not quite so noble,” her father answered with a hint of steel in his gaze. She knew that look. He wasn’t happy she was mixed up with a cougar. “Tell me more about this Billings,” he ordered, back on target for the problem at hand. Trisha almost breathed a sigh of relief, but she knew better than that.

  She didn’t think for one minute that he’d forgotten about the other little problem—the fact that Steve said she was his mate. But she knew her father’s methodic nature. She knew he’d eliminate the most immediate threat first, then work his way down his priority list. She only hoped that by the time they came back to her relationship with Steve, she’d know what to do about it herself.

  Slade continued his briefing. “We know Billings has preyed on magical women before—with no success that we are aware of. It could be he’s looking to make a score but hasn’t managed it yet, although he’s upped his game since the earlier attempts with the female bloodletter and the werewolf girls. He’s never been so organized before. Never had help that we know of. Never tried ambushes. The previous encounters were clumsy head-on affairs that lacked the organization of what occurred last night.”

  “So either he’s perfecting his plan of attack or—” Steve began.

  “He now has help,” her father finished the thought. “Dammit. I was hoping we were wrong.”

  The admiral and Deke shared a speaking glance that Trisha recognized. “Spill, you two. What do you know?”

  “Nothing concrete,” Deke said first. “I only told Dad what I sensed. Something very wrong here. A threat against you from something very dark. He did the rest.”

  “I called on the water. It can sometimes show me what it’s witnessed. There’s not a lot around here to work with—though the casinos have a surprising number of water features, I was pleased to discover. Deke and I didn’t come straight here. We knew you were safe with Steve, so we did some recon on the Strip. The water says you were followed by more than one man. I was hoping it was wrong, because it was vague. There are so many people walking around down there. But in light of the intel, I’m giving my initial information more credence. There are at least two people in on this. One is the weaker—probably the warlock we know about. But there is a stronger one. A puppet master, perhaps, pulling the strings and organizing the escalated action. The stronger one has the resources the weaker one lacks, but not the sensitivity to know who to target.”

  “That makes almost too much sense,” Grif muttered. “That means potentially everyone with magic around them—all my Clansmen and our Other friends—could be at risk here if the sensitive latches onto their trail.”

  Her father nodded, his expression grim.

  “There’s only one thing to do then.” Grif stood. “We need to bait the trap and catch them before they can succeed in actually capturing anyone.” He whipped out his phone and began to dial, but the admiral stood and drew his attention.

  “Warn your Clan to stand clear, Alpha. My daughter started this. I will end it.” He spoke in that determined voice that made him such a great leader of men. When his blue gaze turned to her, Trisha was surprised. “With Trisha’s help,” he added, completely flooring her. She’d fully expected him to lock her in a basement where she couldn’t possibly be in danger. Instead, he seemed to want her in on the action. For once. Wow.

  Steve squeezed her hand and his jaw clenched. “I don’t like that idea.”

  “Neither do I, frankly, but I think we have to do it this way. The warlock is already locked on to her for whatever reason. She’s not unskilled, just unaware of the presence of Others. I’m sorry, honey, I thought it was best to keep you innocent of the magic all around you. Some of it isn’t very nice. If it’s any consolation, I would’ve told you eventually. All this has just shown me I put it off too long.”

  As apologies went, it was better than most. She thought she understood what motivated her dad. He’d always been the one to protect her and his devotion to keeping her and her mother safe from all harm and worry was shared by Deke. Her brother might not be genetically related to the old man, but they were cut from the same cloth. Between the two of them, she and her mom hadn’t had to worry about their personal safety, or much of anything else—except the exceptionally dangerous line of work both men had chosen to pursue.

  “It’s okay, Dad,” she said softly, then squared her shoulders. “I’ll do whatever I can to help end this threat. I don’t like that my friends were hurt because of me.”

  “You might not have been the main target,” Slade said from the other side of the room. “I talked with your friend Lynda at length. She could just as easily have been what drew the attention of the warlock. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if she was the initial target. She stands out much more on the magical plane than you do, Trisha. Even your father has a deceptively low-grade magic around him right now. I imagine you both have some kind of natural shield unless you’re actively using your abilities. The use of your magic last night lit the sky with its incandescence, but today it’s muted again, like the admiral’s.” Slade sent an almost apologetic look toward her dad. “But your half-fey friend has no skill at dampening her magical output. She shines to my sight.”

  “Then why did they go after me again last night on the way back from the lab?” she wanted to know.

  “Target of opportunity,” Steve answered from between tightly drawn lips. He wasn’t happy about any of this, she could tell. “The fey was locked up in the Pack house with the other girls, surrounded by wolves and firmly in their territory. It would take an assault force bigger than the one that ambushed us to even begin to think about hitting the Pack house, but a small convoy was well within their abilities. Though they didn’t count on us being shifters. They didn’t have silver ammo and a few of them wet themselves when we went animal on them.”

  “Humans then. Possibly amateurs,” Grif concluded. “Hired guns who didn’t know what they were going up against.”

  “Makes sense,” the admiral acknowledged. “The next attempt will be more orga
nized. That’s the pattern so far. Each attack gets a little more sophisticated. They’re learning as they go.”

  “It won’t be fast enough,” Grif spoke the words like a vow. “We have more than cats and dogs to count on. I can get aerial support.”

  “Planes? Helos?” Deke asked.

  Grif smiled. “Raptors. Shapeshifters who transform into eagles and hawks.”

  Trisha noted the way her brother’s eyes widened.

  “Impressive,” was all Deke said. He was playing it cool, but Trisha knew her brother had to be really impressed to say even that much.

  “And Kate and I will provide magical support, if needed,” Slade put in.

  “The vamps are gathering and will help if this goes down at night,” Magnus reported.

  Trisha tried to relax as the men began to make plans and contingency plans. Her dad was in his element, strategizing on how best to deploy the troops. She just sat back and watched. So did Steve, much to her surprise. He leaned back in the chair and held her hand, simply watching the planning unfold. Occasionally, he’d add a comment or two, but mostly he held back and listened.

  Chapter Eight

  “Tony’s people are ready,” Magnus reported, having just ended a phone call to his vampire connection.

  Steve, Trisha, her dad and brother were pre-positioned in a hotel suite from where they would launch the evening’s offensive. There was no guarantee they’d catch their fish tonight, but Trisha would give it her all. She wanted this over so she could get on with her life and end the threat against herself and her friends. Being ambushed every time she stepped out of the house wasn’t her idea of fun.

  But tonight they would welcome the attack. She wanted to draw the attention of the jerk who’d been trailing her. In fact, she’d left Steve’s house earlier with a much heavier guard than the night before and they knew for a fact she was followed back to the hotel she’d been staying at before all this craziness started.

  To the watchers, it probably seemed like she’d gone back to her hotel to get her stuff or something. They didn’t attack the car Steve had dropped her off in and all the other guards were invisible to her eye, even though she knew they were there. Chances are, the enemy didn’t know just how heavily guarded she’d been.

  Steve had dropped her off in front of the hotel and she’d gone straight upstairs. All along the way, she’d been conscious of the shapeshifters who kept a close watch on her path. The elevator had been filled with Redstones—Grif, Mag and another brother they called Bobcat. They’d escorted her not to her floor—though the elevator doors had opened dutifully at the floor where she’d originally been staying—but to the penthouse, where they’d reserved a spacious suite.

  Steve was already there when she arrived. She didn’t know how he’d gotten into position so quickly, but she was glad he was there.

  The plan was simple. Trisha was going to leave the hotel and walk down the Strip. She wouldn’t be alone, but it sure would look like she was alone. Her path would be monitored and guarded by shapeshifters stationed all around. And a group of vampires had agreed to steer traffic away from her—and whoever might follow her.

  Apparently the vamps could alter people’s perception and influence what they saw or even where they went. They’d be using their powers to isolate Trisha and the prey they were hoping to trap from the rest of the many tourists who roamed the Las Vegas Strip every night.

  Trisha was going to walk toward the big hotel with a giant water feature out front. If things got too hairy for her, Trisha’s safe haven was the water. She’d dive in and let the weres and vamps take care of the warlock. That was the plan. Only her father and she knew that as long as she was in or near a body of water, she could do more than any of the werepeople probably realized.

  “It’s show time,” Steve whispered, standing opposite her, holding one of her hands. He moved closer and gave her a quick kiss, despite the frowns coming from her dad and brother’s direction. “I’ll be with you every step of the way, even if you can’t see me. I can be there in a flash if you need me.”

  “Head for the water,” her father reminded her as Steve stepped back. “You know what to do. The water will protect you.”

  “I know, Dad.” She winked at him. It was a little knowing gesture between them that spoke volumes about things only they shared.

  He knew exactly what she was capable of—as she knew what he could do. Her dad was a formidable creature when his protective instincts were stirred. She’d seen it only a few times in her life and those times were more than memorable. If anything threatened his family or those under his protection, he could call on forces she wouldn’t have believed if she hadn’t seen it herself.

  She had only a fraction of his power and even less of his experience, but she had practiced the things she could do, under his tutelage, all her life. They had a giant swimming pool at their house and they had made good use of it as a place to train her talents in secret. Deke had seen a good bit of what she could do, but even he didn’t know the full extent of her abilities.

  She only hoped she wouldn’t have to use any of them. If the men were to be believed, the vampires would be screening them all from human observation while this went down, but she still felt really uncomfortable about using her talents where everyone could see. She’d been keeping the secret all her life and it was hard to let go of it now, all of a sudden. It was only yesterday that she’d learned there were other special creatures out there in the world.

  Magic was real. That was something her father had never allowed her to know. She still felt a bit resentful at his deliberate attempts to keep her in ignorance. For now, she had to focus on the matter at hand. There was a threat to her and her friends and she was in the best position—with all this help—to end it. Finally, she’d get to put some of those protective instincts she’d been born with to good use.

  Steve hated this plan. He hated sending Trisha out there into the unknown. Using her as bait. Everything about this went against his instincts, but from the moment her father had suggested it, a light had entered her eyes that he recognized. A light of battle. Of confidence. Of power.

  It would crush her if he stepped in and argued against her participation. A predator to his very bones, he respected the right of every being to take an active part in their own protection. The fact that she was helping to safeguard her friends as well only amplified the need he knew she was feeling to do what she could.

  If she’d been a shifter female, he would still have been concerned, but he would have had to respect her right to defend herself and those she considered friends. He had to give Trisha the same respect—even though he didn’t really understand the full scope of her abilities.

  But her father had to know. The admiral wasn’t saying much, but the mere fact that he’d suggested this plan meant that he knew Trisha could handle it. Maybe he was making up, in some small way, for keeping her in the dark so long about the real world and her place in it—among magical beings, like herself.

  If there was one thing that made Steve feel a little better about all of this, it was that the admiral had put forth the plan. Steve had worked with the man, and the SEALs under him many times in the past. He respected the admiral’s head for strategy and his knowledge of the strengths and weaknesses of those under his command. He always deployed the best men for the job, and Steve saw no reason to doubt his judgment now, not when the man’s own daughter was involved. Especially when his daughter was involved.

  Admiral Morrow wouldn’t risk his daughter’s life on a mission she had a slim chance of seeing through to the end. Her father knew her abilities better than anyone. He had to believe she could handle her role in the coming action. And Steve had to believe that old man Morrow knew what he was doing when he selected his daughter for the mission.

  Steve followed Trisha as she walked down the Las Vegas Strip. He was at quite a distance, using his keener eyesight and sense of smell to track her among the many humans all around. The vamps
were doing their thing subtly. Their kind of magic was very low-key. In fact, if Steve didn’t know they were out there, consciously working to direct the humans’ attentions elsewhere, he wouldn’t have known.

  As it was, Steve could only see the small gestures, the quick aversion of eyes, the way nobody really looked at Trisha. Those small things told him the vamps were doing their thing. He’d given her an earwig—a tiny device that fit in her ear and would both transmit and receive audio signals. They—Steve, her father and brother—could hear her when she spoke and she could hear their directions as well.

  She was on a separate frequency from the tactical radios the rest of the shifter team was using. Mag was their relay to the vamps. He was, at this moment, strolling down the Strip arm in arm with his vampire lady friend. Steve had met Miranda a couple of times—including the night they’d rescued her from a madman’s lair. She’d been in bad shape. Her captor had starved her for months. Possibly years. Steve didn’t really know. Mag had recognized her, let her bite the shit out of him in her frenzy and then disappeared with her into the night.

  He’d taken her away from the scene so fast none of the brothers knew where he’d gone. He’d shown up a few days later, just long enough to get a couple of changes of clothes from his room and have angry words with Grif. Since then, he’d been around a little more often and he’d brought Miranda to a meeting on neutral territory so Grif could talk to them both. Steve hadn’t been in on that meeting, but he knew Grif wouldn’t have let Mag go if he thought the woman posed a real threat to either Mag or the Clan.

  Steve could see Mag and Miranda walking along about a hundred yards from Trisha on the other side of the wide boulevard. Mag’s arm was around Miranda’s waist and it looked more like he was supporting her than anything else to Steve’s keen eyes. Miranda was still sickly, which surprised him. Vamps were immortal. Very little could sicken them, though starvation had to be a bad thing. She must’ve suffered at the mad mage’s hands more than Steve had realized. No wonder Mag was so secretive about the woman. The injured female must’ve roused all of his brother’s protective instincts.